Quarter Quell – Maysilee Donner
by TheGirlWithTheStories
Summary: Maysilee Donner is an overlooked character in this series. In this eleven-chapter story, we learn of the many victories and downfalls of our struggling protagonist. Happy Fiftieth Hunger Games! And may the odds be ever in your favor! After three long years, I have finally uploaded the entirety of this story! Thank you to all of my followers for sticking with me to the end. Enjoy!
1. The Reaping

TheGirlWithTheStories

Quarter Quell – Maysilee Donner

CHAPTER ONE: THE REAPING

I held onto Gracie's hand. We were so nervous. After President Snow had announced that the Quarter Quell this year would call for four tributes for the fiftieth Hunger Games instead of the usual two, we anticipated the worst; that we would both be selected and have to kill each other. I would never be able to. I would kill myself before killing my best friend.

We stood in the packed District Twelve town square, waiting for our fate. I began to think, _what if Gracie gets called and I don't? _She would never survive out there without me. I couldn't bear to watch her die mercilessly at the hands of her ruthless opponents. Her being the daughter of the apothecary and I being a merchant's child, neither of us knew hunger particularly well, but I knew it much better than she did. Just because we make more money than those in the Seam doesn't mean we're always well-fed or better off. The money doesn't really belong to us and most of what we make goes right back into the Capitol to buy more stock to sell. Honestly I don't understand the cycle at all. I did know what it was like being hungry for a couple of weeks and how to deal with it. Plus, because Gracie was the Apothecary's daughter she knew plenty about the certain berries safe to eat and which roots you can eat raw. I knew if Gracie got into a food problem she would attempt to live off of berries and roots, but I just couldn't see myself watching her on the screen suffering. If she got called, I knew exactly what I would do; I would volunteer to take her place.

The Capitol woman dove her hand deep into the glass-orb that was presented onstage. My heart throbbed about one hundred times a second. _Please not Gracie. Please not Gracie. Please not Gracie._

"Maysilee Donner!"

Well, it wasn't Gracie.

I walked up to the stage – or at least I attempted to. Gracie wouldn't let go. She was sobbing, begging for me to stay even though she knew fully well that I couldn't. By the time I had reached halfway out of the Year Seventeen section, my sister was on my other arm, crying for me not to go. I didn't have a choice. I would stay if I could and they both knew that. I was dangerously close to tears. I looked at Gracie and gruffly told her to let go. She did. I then turned to my sister and grasped her shoulders firmly with both hands. "I'll be alright. I will win for you. I promise." I kissed her forehead and walked calmly to the stage.

The rest of the ceremony carried on but I couldn't concentrate. Soon we were ushered into a building and our families came to give us goodbyes. The first in were my mother and father, followed by my sister. I have never seen my father shed a tear, let alone openly cry like this. It tore my heart to shreds. My mother gave me one last lingering hug and took him out with her. My sister simply walked up to me and forcefully embraced me. It hurt a bit, but I didn't want her to stop. I hugged her back – not as forcefully, but tightly because I didn't want to let go. I feared that if I let go of her, I let go of my life all altogether. After a bit of silence, she looked into my eyes and said to me, "Remember what you promised." She placed something in my hand and closed my hand over it. I went to see what it was but she told me to wait until the end. Then, she left. That was it.

I know I made a promise I couldn't keep. I felt horrible. If I died, which was very likely considering the odds were _not_ in my favor, a piece of her heart would be dead as well. It sounds conceited taken out of context, but if you thought about it: my sister and I did everything together. Two peas in a pod as one might say. We're twins, so the whole togetherness thing seemed essential to us. We've been doing everything together since we were born; if I died it would be like killing part of her. I felt like I betrayed her by making that promise, understanding quite clearly that once I go in, there's a ninety eight percent chance that I won't come back alive, but still and lifeless in a wooden box.

Gracie comes in and starts yelling about how she'll go volunteer now and how she hates the fact that she didn't volunteer for me at the ceremony and how because she's a horrible friend, I'm going off to my death.

"Gracie, the only one whose fault it is that I'm going into these Games is the Capitol's, not yours. You are the greatest friend I could have ever asked for. Don't sell yourself short and don't be crazy. They won't let you volunteer now. _I_ won't let you volunteer now." She looked upset and terrified. She knew I wasn't coming back. I took her into my arms, my closest friend. I would never see her again. "Gracie," I instructed, "listen to me. Look after my sister for me. You know I won't make it back, but I sure as hell won't go down without a fight. Do you hear me Gracie? I will _not_ give up. I will win or die trying."

She quietly nodded and kissed my forehead. She whispers, "I love you, Maysilee. You are the best friend I could have ever asked for. Stay strong for me. Stay strong for your sister." I promised. She gave me a final hug and left.

I looked down curiously at my still-closed fist. I opened my hand and stared in awe at the magnificent golden pin that sat on my palm. On it held a songbird so majestic, clutching an arrow in its mouth, wings spread wide. There was a boy in the Seam who sang so beautifully that all of the songbirds would stop and listen in amazement. I would stop along with those birds, spellbound by each stanza he would sing. Most often his song of choice would be 'The Hanging Tree'. A haunting song, but enchanting none the less. I grasped onto the pin tightly and held it to my chest. _A little piece of home to keep me going in the arena._ I pinned it on my dress, right over my heart, so that everybody could see the songbird. The mutation of the jabberjay and the mockingbird. The Mockingjay.


	2. Pre-Interview Preparations

TheGirlWithTheStories

Pre-Game Preparations – Maysilee Donner

CHAPTER TWO:

Training was a bitch. Day one at least. I stayed on my own, practicing archery and rope tying. It wasn't until the day two that I got an audience. Haymitch Abernathy. He was quite the looker as well. His dark curly hair tousled and strong jaw clenched. He looked as though he was troubled. What a coincidence, so was I… Maybe if we – no, I can't, he is my enemy. He is my _prey._ I quickly pushed Haymitch out of my mind.

Knife-throwing was usually my strongest suit, but today there was something off about it. I couldn't even hit the target whereas yesterday I got bull's eyes every time. That damned Haymitch, clouding over my mind with his soft hair and entrancing gray eyes… _Damn it, Maysilee! Pay attention,_ I chided myself. _There's just something about him… No, I'm_ _better off without him __and__ he has a girl back home. _That was my reason for not getting close. I didn't want to have to kill him, but if it's what could get me to my sister and parents again, then I'll have to. Already a murderer and the Games haven't even started.

Showing my skills to the judges went horribly. My nerves got to me and I almost knifed a Capitol woman through the face. I hope they don't give me too low a score for that. Of course I knew how to do much more than knife-throwing, but at that moment, I didn't think I could handle anything but what I've been doing all my life. It's too bad I couldn't put to use everything I learned during my time with Gracie. She taught me which plants were used for what. In fact, I had quite an extensive knowledge of many topics dealing with apothecary as well. I wish I could have just made all the tributes eat poisoned berries or something. I just felt that maybe knife-throwing had that little bit of extremity I needed to get me that good score. Not too many points though, that could get me killed.

When I sat down at dinner that night, the training scores came onto the screen. Haymitch received an eight, the other two a six and seven. Then my name came up. Maysilee Donner – Ten. The color drained from my face, I couldn't shake the fear that gripped my heart in its icy, cold hands. I managed to hide my emotions long enough to accept everyone's congratulations, but Haymitch saw right through my charade. He knew exactly what had happened. I don't know how, but he definitely knew.

The next morning I was told to keep my eyes shut while my prep team worked on me.  
>"They have to be shut the whole time, sugar pie," my lead stylist, Jasper, had told me. He was always calling me a variety of food-related nicknames. "Sugar pie" was better than "lemon cake" or "chocolate puff". I didn't understand half of his nicknames, but I am smart enough to know not to mess with the person who puts make-up on my face.<p> 


	3. The Make-Over

TheGirlWithTheStories

The Make-Over – Maysilee Donner

CHAPTER THREE:

I believe terrified is the word I am searching for. I was terrified. My outfit for Twelve's chariot entrances was a bit… slutty. Very short overall shorts with a tight low-cut white t-shirt, packed-on thick makeup and, of course, mining boots with a matching coal miner's headlamp. I looked like a skank. I was wearing the same old tasteless shit we wear every year. It wouldn't have been as bad if they hadn't waxed me _everywhere_. The tight overalls were bunching up in places I wasn't even _aware_ that denim could bunch up. No, it wasn't a very fun time at all. It was all very uncomfortable and embarrassing. Now that it was time for my interview, I was not a happy tribute.

Jasper and his two assistants chittered on about what bets they had placed on the Games. Nobody was betting on me. Figures. They quickly changed the subject to what fashions were in and out – something was said about heel-less heels making a comeback. (How ridiculous. How are you to walk without that support?) They then spoke about which color they were going to be dying themselves next.

It seemed like an eternity passed by before I could open my eyes. When they were finally done I opened my eyes and turned to the mirror. The girl who I saw before me was unrecognizable. Her eyes looked like those of a sly fox, yet they burned ferociously as if they were suns themselves. She looked like the embodiment of determination, but also very delicate as if she were a fragile porcelain doll. Her skin had a beautiful, healthy glow. No, not a _healthy_ glow – it was actually _glowing_. In such a way that would suggest that she was an ember from a coal-fueled fire. Straight cut, silky, black material wrapped around the middle of her body encasing her ribs, hips, and upper-thighs while the rest of the floor-length number fell in red, orange, yellow, and black ruffles with a right side-cut up to the end of the silky material. Her chest was covered with bunched up tulle and silk and was laden with many glittering diamonds. The dress outlined the contours of her body, defining every curve. I move my hand to my hair and stop short when I see the woman in front of me do the same. I noticed the messy explosion of curls that she had on her head and her bangs that were pinned back. It took me this long to realize that this "woman" I'd been studying this entire time was actually _me_.

I couldn't speak. I couldn't believe that this ferocious woman was a mere scared little girl afraid to die not two hours ago. But this woman I've been transformed into; she isn't afraid of anyone or anything, especially not death. This definitely made up for the overalls. I mean, I was sexy! I was ferocious! I was the Beauty _and_ the Beast.


	4. The Interview

TheGirlWithTheStories

The Interview – Maysilee Donner

CHAPTER FOUR:

We walked onstage. There were so many tributes out on the stage – so many children being sent to their deaths. It's hard to believe only one of us will be making it out alive. Caesar Flickerman sported green hair, his teeth a brilliant white and his makeup just as colorful as the other Capitol citizens. The interviews were nothing special. Some tributes tried to play the "fierce" approach, others the "innocent" approach, and one twelve year old seemed so fragile and incapable that I couldn't help but want to comfort her – Jahna, I believe her name was. I zoned out after District Five's last girl went up, but I snapped right back when Haymitch went up. I was curious to see how he played out his interview. His eyes were bright and dangerous.

"So, Haymitch, what do you think of the Games having one hundred percent more competitors than usual?" Caesar asked him.

Arrogant Haymitch just shrugged and replied, "I don't see that it makes much difference. They'll still be on hundred percent as stupid as usual, so I figure my odds will be roughly the same."

Oh the audience loved that. They roared with laughter. There was a little more back-and-forth, and then the buzzer went off.

Shit, my turn. I walked up in a sultry fashion – might as well play the part I'm dressed for.

"Miss Maysilee Donner, may I first offer that you are looking absolutely spectacular this evening. Deliciously beautiful I might add!"

"Thank you so much Caesar," I said with a sensual smile. "May _I _add that you look just as 'delicious'?" Keeping up this sly, seductress crap was making me sick.

"You are _very_ welcome," he replied with a glance up and down. Pervert. Finally he began the interview. "So those girls at the ceremony were your…?"

"Sister and best friend," I said stony faced.

"They seem to love you a whole lot," he remarked harmlessly. "They were holding on rather tight!"

He may not have meant anything by it – God knows he is only doing his job – but it hit me in the wrong way and I snapped. I felt my skin grow hot, as if I were actually burning. My eyes turned into slits and before I could stop myself, I hissed at Caesar, "You idiot, of course they were holding on tightly! They were about to be watching me leave in a first class train to my death!" _Damnit_, I regretted it almost immediately. Caesar shifted uncomfortably. The audience was quietly murmuring. _What have I done?_ I calmed down and softened my fiery features. I tried to pick up on my sexy persona again. Caesar picked up with the interview, asking how the Capitol was and what I was bringing to the game. We went until the buzzer went off cueing the end of my time. I sauntered back to my seat and sat down, I smiled and winked at the cameras, but my heart had never felt emptier.

I had gone to bed unconfident and irritated. I dreamt of only nightmares of what the arena would look like. Empty deserts with water so scarce that everybody died of thirst before the games were even past the two day mark. Or worse, an arena shaped like a clock with horrors lying within every hourly section. My dreams suddenly shifted away from the arenas. I was swimming in the middle of the ocean. It was peaceful… serene, even. Then the waters began to violently churn and tossed me from side to side as they changed from a calming blue to a deep crimson, resembling a blood red. It was warm but I was shivering. Haymitch stood above me, floated rather, just out of arms reach. His tough, gray eyes bore into me and filled me with fear. I sank beneath the waves fighting for breath, choking under the thick foamy sea. Screaming, I heard screaming. I looked around with whatever consciousness I had left – nobody. It was me, I was screaming. My lungs replaced air with water and my vision faded to black.

I woke up like that. Screaming, I mean. The morning of the Games. I was so anxious; I couldn't shake that drowning feeling I had dreamt of the night before. I showered, got dressed, and forced myself to eat not knowing the next time I would come face to face with any form of sustenance. The rest of the morning was a blur. The next thing I knew I was traveling through the clear tube up to the arena.


	5. Let the Games Begin

TheGirlWithTheStories

Let the Games Begin – Maysilee Donner

CHAPTER FIVE:

If Claudius Templesmith had been talking, I had not heard a word of it. The area was so breathtaking, the landscaping so beautiful, and it seemed to have a delicious scent wafting through the air. There was a mountain on one end of the arena and woods to the other. The Cornucopia sat in the middle of a lush green meadow in all of its golden glory. Damn, I needed to pay attention! Did the gong go off? No, I still heard counting and no one had moved; most importantly I wasn't dead. I looked at the Cornucopia and honed in on a small bag. _Good things come in small packages_, I thought.

3...2...1... the gong sounded. I took off sprinting.


	6. Jahna

TheGirlWithTheStories

Jahna – Maysilee Donner

CHAPTER SIX:

This place is a deathtrap; everything here is poisonous. I didn't find out right away, though. After I escaped the Cornucopia, I heard 13 cannons go off. The bloodbath was over. _13 dead in just under two hours._ Little did I know that that was only a preview of how quickly these games would go

I had entered the woods shortly after Haymitch – I followed him. He kept walking in the direction away from the volcano. I let him lead me to the center of the woods before I stopped. I quietly waited for him to disappear then decided to set up camp in a high tree. That's when I met Jahna. She had her eyes squeezed shut, just hugging the trunk of the tree. I think she was hoping I would leave without noticing her. When she peeked and saw me looking at her, she whimpered.

"Please," she begged in a strained whisper. "Make it fast."

Then, she began to cry. I never could stand the sight of tears. Gracie always got me to do what she wanted with her sad little pout. Before I knew it I was next to Jahna, holding and rocking her. I told her to open her eyes and look at me, that I was unarmed. I promised that I wouldn't hurt her and that she was safe. Only then did she open her eyes. She repeated, "Safe?" I nodded and asked her for her name. She wiped her eyes and said it was Jahna. I said mine was Maysilee.

"Allies?" I offered. She nodded yes and gave me a little smile. She was so small in size, but I did not regret my decision; I had a feeling she would be worth it. We drank some of the water from a canteen she had nabbed at the Cornucopia. It was time to get some sleep. I leaned my back against the tree just as the light from the Capitol's nightly death announcement faded out to reveal the black night sky. 16 dead today. I closed my eyes and slept a dreamless sleep.

I opened my pack just as another three cannons went off. Damn, it's only the morning. In my pack I had some dried beef, a bowl, and the most relieving thing I had ever seen – a weapon. A blowgun with two dozen darts. Obviously these alone wouldn't do much damage. They had a long needle part but that by itself could only injure, not kill. I was pondering what I could use to help the darts become a fatal weapon when I heard my name – quiet, but prominent.

"Jahna," I called cautiously. "Jahna where are you?"

"Maysilee..." the same small voice said.

I hid my pack in a nook in the tree and climbed down the tree with amazing speed. It turned out Jahna had fallen off a tree two trunks over from the one where I had slept. She lay in the bush below full of really gorgeous flowers. She seemed virtually unharmed; it was not until I reached her that I saw it.

Her skin was drenched in some sort of liquid and it was slowly eating through her flesh until her bones could be seen. She was struggling but she couldn't break free; the bush seemed to be alive and held her down with thorny, elongated stems that easily cut through her clothes and into her tender flesh. She was trapped but I had to try and help her. As I reached for one of the binds she forced through clenched teeth, "No… Maysilee... poison... everything... don't touch!" She looked towards her hand and yelped as the plant's hold became tighter. I looked down to her hands were stained purple and swollen. I looked up and there were beautiful berries on some of the flowers in the tree. She must have been collecting them and the poison seeped into her hand, causing the reaction that made her tumble out of the tree. I relayed my hypothesis to Jahna and she nodded painfully. The acid began to eat away at her face and she cried out in pain. Then she gritted her teeth again and looked at me with what was left of her being. She managed to choke out one more word, "Win." With that, she became still and the cannon sounded.

Acid ate away most of the skin on her legs and arms before I realized that the longer I wait, the less of her that goes home to her family; it was bad enough they received this bloody pulp of what used to be their daughter. I just hoped the Capitol had the decency of fixing her up before they sent her back. I quickly wiped away my tears and went back to my tree to pack my things. It was time to move on.


	7. Kill or Be Killed

TheGirlWithTheStories

Kill or Be Killed – Maysilee Donner

CHAPTER SEVEN:

As I finished packing up Jahna's bag – I needed all I could get, plus the canteen would surely be useful – I heard the snap of a twig and hid myself from whatever made the sound. I quickly drew and loaded my blowgun and carefully peered over the thick branch I was hiding behind. Two girls and a guy came into view. One of the girls had blonde hair and a short build and was whining to the other two; a medium-height redhead with a frustrated look on her face and a tall brunette pretty-boy who had a bow and a dozen arrows.

"Jemma, how far are we going to walk? I'm tired and my feet hurt," the blonde complained.

"Shut up Arianna," the male snapped. "Don't make me shove a berry down your goddamn throat–" The leading girl (Jemma, I presumed) pivoted abruptly and held her hunting knife up to his throat.

"How _dare_ you? We just lost Coleson, _my brother_, to those fucking berries and you–" she composed herself. She did not slacken her grip on his shirt, but she flipped her knife and traced the blunt edge of it across his face. She gave a small sadistic smile and said, "You get annoyed too easily. It's a shame you don't smile more often Gideon." Her smile dropped and she put the knife in his mouth against the inside of his cheek. "Bring up Coleson again and I will make sure you _never_ stop smiling." She let her grip go and turned to Arianna, "That offer reaches out to you too if you don't stop whining. Are you trying to get us killed? Don't answer that. We'll stop here and rest."

Shit. Great, I'm stuck in this tree until they leave. _Unless…_ I looked down at my blowgun. I grabbed the darts and looked around. There were flowers on a twig protruding from the branch I was on. It was a little farther out. Luckily there was a heavy amount of leaves on the tree and so I had decent coverage. I quietly inched my way to the flowers. I carefully stuck the needle portion of the dart into the center of the flower making sure to let none of the nectar find my flesh. Some of the petals did get hit by the foul-smelling liquid and wilted instantly. I silently thanked Jahna as I poisoned the rest of my darts. I loaded one just as Jemma told Gideon and Arianna to search for water while she set up camp. _Perfect._ I'll get rid of the leader first and then take care of the other two. I took aim at Jemma. The squabbling pair headed into the woods leaving Jemma there shaking her head and cursing herself for saving them from the Careers.

The dart dug deep into her neck. She pulled it out lightning quick, but it was too late. The poison was already coursing through her body and she began to convulse. She fell to the ground. Dead. A cannon sounded seconds later. I heard Arianna tell Gideon that she was going to check on Jemma because she had a bad feeling about the cannon and for him to go on, that she would catch up to him in a bit. I smiled maliciously for the camera and took aim. She walked into sight and walked up to her former leader's body, but before she could even react she was dead – the dart had pierced her left temple and she toppled onto Jemma.

I waited silently for half an hour, but Gideon never came back; although about fifteen minutes after Arianna's cannon went off another cannon sounded. I assumed it was Gideon's but I waited an extra fifteen minutes to be sure. I could assume it was his, and then I could assume that he was either killed by another tribute (which is unlikely due to the eerie lack of sound in the forest) or, more likely, something poisonous got to him. I made the presumption that he found the stream and that the water killed him. I ruled the water as poisonous. Here it was better to be safe than… well, dead. Two people were enough for me, anyways. Two too many, in fact. The most horrid thing of all was that I felt no remorse for the dead girls. It was frightening how quickly the game dehumanizes you.


	8. The Beauty of Nature

TheGirlWithTheStories

The Beauty of Nature – Maysilee Donner

CHAPTER EIGHT:

Four days in now. Rainfall has been my only source of water. Thank god for Jahna's canteen. A volcanic eruption from the seemingly calm snow-capped mountain scared me awake this morning. The Gamemakers were roping us in, forcing the rest of us into the woods. I could be easily spotted among the foliage on the ground, so I decided to stick to the trees.

By now thirty-five tributes had been offed. There are thirteen of us left and only five of them are Careers. In the first three days twenty-four tributes were killed – Haymitch not being one of them. The volcano took another dozen. I had been travelling around the woods since the Games began; killing anyone and everyone who got in my way. I washed all of the darts I could retrieve from my kills in the rainwater and re-poisoned them when I could (which was often). There was one I couldn't retrieve because he tripped backwards when I shot him and the idiot fell into the river. It turns out that the water is poisonous. Acidic, actually.

I discovered that the animals here are some scary shit. I was about to dart a District Six boy until I saw him lock his eyes on a fluffy, golden squirrel. I decide not to kill him to see if the animals were safe to eat, if I ran out – _when_ I ran out of the food I had salvaged from the other players. Apparently, the squirrels didn't like to be hunted; they call to their pack hiding in the trees and attack. Those carnivorous little monsters dragged the boy out of my sight. I couldn't see anything but I heard the tearing of flesh and inhuman screams of pain echoed throughout the forest. I ran before they could figure out I was there. A cannon went off. I had to keep a lookout for which trees I did and didn't stay in from now on.

On Day Six I found out through a District Nine girl that the Capitol really pulled out all of the stops with this year's arena design. The butterflies here sting, and the venom causes a slow, painful death. She was writhing in pain for a long while before I could leave. There was an internal struggle debating whether or not I should put her out of her misery. I couldn't decide which would make me less of a monster, so I chose the safest choice. About an hour and a half later I hear a cannon go off. I could only hope that it was that District Nine girl.


	9. Haymitch

TheGirlWithTheStories

Haymitch – Maysilee Donner

CHAPTER NINE:

It was the eighth day when I had circled the woods and reached the center again. I saw the tree where Jahna had died – a couple of fluffy squirrels pranced atop them. There was no way in hell I was going to test their patience or tolerance with my human presence. I saw my tree; the one I had slept in the first night. Suddenly I tensed up – someone was coming in from the right. I bolted up the tree and took my position to shoot whoever it was. I took a poisoned dart and loaded it just as three careers came into the clearing. They began speaking about how they should go about finding "those stupid District Twelve assholes". The tallest of the three males unsheathed his sword, thrusting and jabbing it into the air. He was pretending to mangle "the District Twelve boy who killed his cousin". Something told me he was only upset that he could not have the opportunity to do so himself. I heard a rustling of leaves and brush from the left. My heart sank and I almost swore aloud; who should it be walking into the clearing but the one and only Haymitch – and there was no way in _hell_ that I was going to let him die at the hands of those assholes. I took aim, but before I could even shoot, Haymitch had disarmed the two Careers who were armed and slit their throats. The third Career, unprotected but not defenseless, had somehow maneuvered the blood-soaked knife out of Haymitch's hand and had lifted it up to his neck. Even though the Career held Haymitch in a body-lock, I still had a fantastic view of his exposed neck. I took the shot and the dart drove deep into the Career's neck. He let go of Haymitch and ripped out the needle – dead in seconds. Haymitch grabbed his knife and looked around cautiously for his savior. I hopped down and appeared from behind the tree.

"We'd live longer with the two of us," I pointed out.

"Guess you just proved that," he replied. He rubbed his neck. "Allies?"

I nodded. I knew that if I could not win, I wanted Haymitch to. At least he could bring prosperity to our district. We were in dire need for nothing short of a miracle; the amount tessarae signed up for was at an all-time high. Either of us wins and our district is fed for a good amount of time. I followed Haymitch, who was walking in the same direction he'd been walking since the games started.

"Why have you been walking this way since the first day?" I questioned. He responded with an uneasy silence. I left the topic alone for a while.

We worked very well together. We got more rest (which I needed very badly), worked out a way to salvage rainwater, fought as a team and evenly divided up the dead tributes' packs. I never questioned him when he suggested something crazy even though at times he did make me feel on edge. Nevertheless I had this odd feeling stir up inside of me – trust. I inexplicably yet wholeheartedly trusted him with my life. There was only one thing I felt nervous about; we kept walking in the same direction. He was always in the lead, never me. Always with his back to the mountain. I feared he was trying to corner me into a place where I would be incapable of fighting back. I began to ask more frequently where we were headed. He never replied with anything more than a grunt. There were only eight tributes left. I know what I had thought earlier, but that was so many tributes ago. I could not afford to die now; I had a sister to think about.


	10. Moving Forward

TheGirlWithTheStories

Moving Forward – Maysilee Donner

CHAPTER TEN:

"Why do we keep moving forward?" I asked on the fifteenth day of the Games. He just kept walking. "Damn it, Haymitch, just tell me!" I snapped. I was quite agitated and I did not plan on moving until he told me.

"Because it has to end somewhere," he strained. Fear showed briefly in his piercing, gray eyes, but quickly was hidden under his gruff, unfeeling act. He struggled to choose his words carefully, "The arena can't go on forever."

"What exactly do you hope to find?" I asked curiously.

"I don't know. But maybe there's something we can use."

I felt that that was a sufficient enough answer. He did not seem as though he wanted to kill me and honestly that's all I really wanted to find out.

We walked on. Eventually we hit a very tall and very wide hedge. Haymitch looked at it and rubbed his temple. I searched the flora for some sort of secret entrance. When I reached the edge, I loaded my blowgun and carefully poked my head around the corner. Clear. I walked out into the clearing and looked at the hedge. There was a highly decorated entrance arch that was clearly made to look welcoming. I decided to return to Haymitch and tell him of my findings. I walked back to where I left him to see Haymitch thumping his head lightly against a tree.

"Haymitch I found an entrance," I relayed to him. "It doesn't look too difficult to get through from first glance, but you know the Capitol."

"No, we can't go through. It's close to impossible."

"You've been here before," I pondered, "haven't you? Is this why you went back to the center? You couldn't get through it?"

"Well, I didn't turn back on purpose if that's what you're asking. The maze circled me back to the center."

"Oh, well, how do you expect to get through then?"

"I don't–" Haymitch stopped suddenly. He quickly unzipped his backpack and took it apart before cursing. "Give me your pack now, quick!" I did not argue; he was seriously freaking me out. He rummaged frantically through my bag and pulled out a small, metal tube with folded handles. His eyes welled up for a moment before he let out a hearty laugh. A smile tugged at my lips and before I knew what was happening I began to chuckle as well. It was such a glorious sound – neither of us had heard nor partaken in such genuine laughter since well before the reaping. I took the metal tube in my hands and flipped the handles out. Fire danced across the lip of the tube. A blowtorch. A blowtorch! I could not believe it! What a stroke of luck! So, there we stood, two maniacs in the middle of the most inhumane, carnivorous game, laughing our asses off. Haymitch and I made eye contact and knew that the fun was over. We became overly conscious of how loud we were being and stopped laughing right away. I told him to keep watch as I burned through the first densely packed hedge.


	11. The Edge and the End

TheGirlWithTheStories

The Edge and the End– Maysilee Donner

CHAPTER ELEVEN:

Around three hours later we were through that impossible maze of trees and bushes. We were deposited onto a flat plane of dry earth. There seemed to be a cliff a few yards away. Haymitch started towards it and beckoned me to follow him. I complied. Far below the cliff lied many jagged rocks. Haymitch said not a word.

I contemplated for a moment before saying, "That's all there is Haymitch. Let's go back." I was quite disappointed; we had wasted so much time getting here and we had almost nothing to show for it.

"No, I'm staying here," he said stubbornly.

"Alright. There's only five of us left. Might as well say goodbye now, anyway," I swallowed back a large lump in my throat before saying the next part. "I don't want it to come down to you and me." I waited for his reply, but all I got was a solemn "Okay". No handshake, no goodbye, no second glance, no feeling. I turned and walked back into the maze. _He didn't even look at me_.

I blinked away some tears and shook off the feeling to cry. Why was I so upset? I wasn't in love with him. There wasn't anything romantic between us, I didn't care about him. But, I suppose the issue was that I did. All of this time we had spent together had changed the way I felt about getting close to people during the Games. I saw him as my friend. That isn't something I should feel though. This game didn't allow for more than one player to win. If I wanted to return to my sister I had to focus.

I heard him laugh not even a minute after I left, he must have found something. I turned to go back. Instead of seeing an empty space of greenery, I discovered that I was being followed by a flock of large, pink birds – the color of candy. They had extremely long beaks as sharp as knives. Then they cocked their heads and charged; that's when I screamed. I managed to dodge them for a little bit, I even killed a couple of them. It was only when I heard Haymitch frantically call out my name that I turned around. Wrong move. Before I could speak I felt a searing pain shoot through my neck and I fell against the hard ground. I couldn't breathe. The vicious creatures flew away, having done what they tracked me down to do.

I felt Haymitch run to my side and hold me. At that point I knew I was dying. Blood was pouring down my neck and I was making a terrifying choking sound. I was weaving in and out of consciousness and I couldn't speak. I looked up at Haymitch with as much strength as I could – the pain was absolutely blinding. I took my hand and touched my chest, over my heart, then attempted to touch his. I couldn't make it though, I was much too weak. He caught my hand as it descended and he held it close to his heart. He had to have understood. His gray eyes were sad and he made no attempt to hide it. I realized, as his beautiful, mourning face hung over mine, that this was my dream – the one I had had the night before the Games. I began to shake from fear and shock. Haymitch just held me and stared into my eyes, blinking away his tears. He stayed with me until the end. Until my vision went black and I drowned in the warm red sea of my own blood.


End file.
